


hand me a pen and i’ll rewrite the pain

by brookethenerd



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Bonding, Found Family, Road Trips, and an agonizing emphasis on the found family trope, bcuz thats Who I Am, ft. the boys begging to drive, julie gets her license and an inevitable weekend trip happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:48:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27667034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brookethenerd/pseuds/brookethenerd
Summary: a fic based on the song chosen family by rina sawayama(aka julie and the guys go on on a road trip)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 59





	hand me a pen and i’ll rewrite the pain

“Is it really the best idea to put our lives in the hands of someone who’s only had their license a week?” Alex asks, leaning forward between the front seats, Reggie squishing in beside him, earning a light nudge - an ignored nudge - from Alex.

Reggie adds, “Yeah, no offense, Julie, I’m sure you passed with flying colors, but-“

“Dude,” Luke interrupts, twisting in the passenger seat to shoot them both withering looks. “We’re already dead.”

“Julie’s not!”

“Which is why Julie is driving,” Luke says. He flashes a lopsided grin at Julie, reaching up to adjust his beanie for the Nth time since they got in the car two hours ago. Since they pulled away from the Molina household, it’d been variations of this - Alex’s comments, Reggie’s ‘I second that,’ and Luke’s insistence they were safe; as someone who couldn’t’ die if this car flipped, Julie thought he was a little too confident.

“Do you think…” Reggie’s lips form an O in the rearview mirror, and Julie knows exactly where he’s headed with this before he speaks - fortunately, the others do, too.

“No!” Alex, Luke, and Julie exclaim.

“There’s no way in hell you’re driving, man,” Luke says. “Even if you _weren’t_ a ghost, you failed your test four times.”

“Passed on the fifth!” Reggie says.

“Is that supposed to be reassuring?” Alex asks. Reggie elbows him, but neither shifts away from what can’t be a comfortable squished position between the front seats. Julie supposes they’re ghosts, so comfort isn’t a priority - or even a consideration.

“All I’m sayin’ is, if I can play my bass, and I can turn off a light, why can’t I drive?”

“For one,” Alex says, an incredulous look on his face, “Julie’s dad will kill you if you wreck Julie’s car.”

“Me and Ray?” Reggie asks. He waves a hand dismissively. “Nah, we’re tight.”

“You absolutely are not-“ Alex continues. “-and a light switch is a little different than a rolling metal box of death.”

“Where was that little phrase when we were deciding on names, huh?” Reggie asks, grinning. “Rolling metal box of death could have been _it_.”

“Next time, Reg,” Luke says, tossing a wink in Julie’s direction. The traitorous butterflies in her belly go haywire, as they always do when he looks at her, but she’s beginning to like that feeling - she’s beginning to learn not to shrink beneath it. “Besides. You talking trash about JATP?”

“Hey, we didn’t pick it!” Reggie says. He pauses. Considers. “I mean, it is pretty sick. The _phantoms_.”

“Don’t forget your headliner,” Luke says, reaching out to tap Julie on the knee.

“Yeah, without me, you’re back with Alex’s tears-“ Julie teases.

“Hey!” Alex protests.

“Still too soon, bro,” Reggie says, patting Alex’s arm affectionately. His sincerity shifts to a dorky grin - the one that is always preceded by something either wildly stupid or wildly genius, or just plain wild, as is Reggie’s way. “Pretty sure the shirt I died in is stained with Alex’s tears.”

“Everybody cries, dude!” Alex says, shoving Reggie aside, leaning further forward. Reggie grumbles in protest, forcing his way back in.

“You know, for three dead guys, you never shut up,“ Julie says. If she’s honest, she doesn’t mind the easy and comfortable conversation - the mindless chatter from her boys - but it’s too much fun messing them; too much fun seeing those shocked and ridiculous looks on their faces.

"Julie….” Reggie says in a sing-song tone, drawing out the e. “When we get to the campsite, can we drive?”

“You say we like we’re all itching to kill ourselves for the second time,” Alex says, “and Julie for the first.”

“Are you telling me you _don’t_ want to drive?” Reggie asks incredulously.

“Yeah, man, that’s basically what I’m-“

“Oh, hold up!” Luke exclaims, leaning forward to flick at the volume, effortlessly tangible in such a small move that Julie momentarily forgets she’s riding in a car full of dead boys.

The thing is, they don’t feel dead. They don’t seem dead. They sure as hell don’t act it. Honestly, Julie has never met anyone as alive as the boys who died long before she was born.

They were dealt horrible cards, and they bit it before they even had a chance to exchange them - a lot of the time, Julie feels the same. But the very presence of the four of them in this car means that their stories aren’t over, that the mountains scaled and rivers crossed meant something.

“This is my jam!” Luke says, eyes falling shut as he bobs his head to the song, dark lashes brushing his cheek. When he opens his eyes, he smiles, cocking a brow at Julie. “It dropped, like, a month before we ate it.”

“I think ate it is the wrong word,” Alex says, tossing forward a withering look.

“I mean, isn’t that what happened?” Julie asks.

“Technically, we _did_ eat it. We ate it, and ate it.” Reggie says.

“It being the hot dogs?”

“The hotdogs and death,” Reggie clarifies. Luke snorts a laugh, and Alex rolls his eyes, waving a hand dismissively.

“Do you ever listen to the words that come out of your mouth?”

“Clearly not, bro,” Luke says. Before anyone gets a chance to respond, the song squeaking through the speakers reaches its first verse, and unsurprisingly, the musicians quickly settle into their roles for the lipsync. Alex, never without his drumsticks, beats against the back of the seat, and Reggie - only a few times, earning a smack from Reggie.

Luke begins, “ _Today is gonna be the day that they’re gonna throw it back to you._ ” As he sings, he twists halfway in his seat, facing Julie in the driver’s seat and easily glimpsing the two in the backseat.

“ _By now, you should’ve somehow realized what you gotta do_ ,” Reggie croons. Alex’s lips turn upward, and he harmonizes the last line with the bassist, their voices melding and dragging Luke’s in with the next line.

Their makeshift instruments and vocals are nowhere near the caliber they’re used to - or near the original song’s recording, for that matter - but every face holds a smile that twists with the lyrics they belt out.

The car seems to tremble with its intensity, the noise, the energy snapping like rubber bands and flitting between them. It is hardly their best performance, and Julie neglects to mention that Wonderwall is more of a meme than anything these days, but it brings the familiar flush and softness, like her veins and skull are stuffed with cotton balls.

_I don’t believe that anybody_

_Feels the way I do about you now_

All four of them belt out the chorus, and it fills the car, threatening to burst out through the windows.

A few months ago, these boys were strangers. They came from nowhere, with an unbelievable story, and now, here, in this car, they are all together. Julie doesn’t have all that many people left these days - neither do the boys. But now, here, in this car, they are more than a band, more than a friend group. They are family.

-

Unsurprisingly, the self-proclaimed rock stars spent most of their childhoods deep in music notes and lyrics, and their experiences camping - or in nature, for that matter - are few and far between. When they reach the campsite, a little spot tucked off the windings mountain roads, with a cabin that is more deserving of the label ‘shack’ and a rusty firepit.

Despite little to no outdoor experience, the boys end up being decent listeners, and with their newfound tangibility - complete with Julie, stronger with inanimate objects - the four of them are unpacked in twenty minutes.

By unpacked, Julie means her things are inside, and the boys have summoned their instruments. To a passerby, it might bring the question of how they got a drumset all the way out here, but the campsite is private and quiet.

It’s been a long, long time since Julie was here. They are painful, nostalgic memories, but she is surprised to find the tinge of hope and happiness flickering beneath the familiar boulder of loss. She can feel her mother here, the way she does in the back house, the way she does when she and the boys’ music is punching through the speakers. Her mother is here, watching over Julie and the boys she sent her.

She tips her head back, searching the clear blue for something she doesn’t expect to find, and says, “Thank you, mom.”

The wind ruffles her hair, and she swears she feels the quick and soft caress of a hand on her cheek.

“Jules?”

Luke’s voice behind her draws her back to reality, and she turns to find him standing behind her, an easy smile playing on his lips.

“What are you looking at?” He asks, sidling up beside her.

He is concrete to her, just as Alex and Reggie are. When he moves, the wind shifts and tickles her arms - as if he were really, truly there.

“Just thinking.” She smiles, but it’s a little sad. “We used to come here with my mom when I was a kid. Roast marshmallows and sing campfire songs and stare at the stars until we fell asleep.”

“You miss her,” Luke says, voice gentle. He understands the loss Julie carries around - he carries it, too. They all do. Every one of them has loved and lost and longs for it back.

“I do,” Julie says, tears pricking the backs of her eyes. “But it doesn’t always hurt to think about her, anymore. It’s sad, but it’s happy, too.” She shakes her head and huffs a laugh. “Sorry, that made absolutely no sense.”

“It makes sense,” Luke says. He stretches his hand out, fingers brushing against Julie’s. She turns her hand and twines their fingers together, always surprised at the contact.

Since their becoming tangible, Julie has learned a lot about the boys. She’s learned that Reggie is the most ticklish creature on this planet, and that Alex gives better hugs than anyone she’s ever met. She’s learned that Luke’s hands are tough but gentle, calloused but careful.

Luke squeezes her hand, and she squeezes back.

“I wish I could have met her,” Luke says. He leans over to bump Julie’s shoulder with his, and her heart skips a beat. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to touching them, Luke especially.

“Me too,” Julie says. She sniffles and clears her throat, scanning the small campsite for the other boys. She catches sight of Reggie by the car - her car, used and old and dingy but hers - and Alex behind him. Alex’s features contort in judgment, and Julie exhales sharply. “He’s really going to try, isn’t he?”

“Reggie isn’t easily persuaded,” Luke says with a grin. “Plus, it has been a while since we were behind the wheel of a car. Or, really, since we did much of anything.”

“Other than playing the Orpheum and nearly getting yourselves killed, you mean?” Julie asks.

Luke’s cheeks flush, and he shifts his weight, raking a hand through his hair - he is a being in constant motion, and has been since Julie met him.

“You _know_ what I mean.”

Julie rolls her eyes but nods. “I know.” She considers, watching as Alex calls something to Reggie and Reggie snaps his head up to flip Alex the bird before ducking back behind the car. “Oh, come on. Fine.”

“Seriously?” Luke asks.

“Any of you crash my car, you are getting me a new one. I don’t care if you have to sneak it off a lot yourselves.”

“Sick!” Luke exclaims. He turns and jogs toward the car, calling, “Dudes, she said yes!”

“For real?” Reggie asks, popping up again. He has the driver’s side door open, and the keys sit not-so-nonchalantly on top of the car, likely set there by Reggie. “Julie, I swear, you won’t regret this!”

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” Julie retorts, lips curling up in a smile of their own accord.

“I call first!” Reggie exclaims, ducking into the driver’s seat. Julie laughs and rolls her eyes, going around to the passenger side and climbing in. Alex and Luke materialize in the backseat, not bothering with the doors.

“Dibs on second,” Luke says.

“Already called it,” Alex says.

“What happened to ‘I don’t wanna die a second time?’ and all that?”

“You know what, I don’t recall,” Alex says innocently.

“If you kill us, man, I’m going to be so peeved.” Luke shakes his head, giving Reggie a pointed look in the rearview mirror.

“Oh, stop stalling and drive, would you?” Julie asks. Reggie grins and turns the key in the ignition. The engine sputters to life, and the radio sings a scratchy and crackled version of Earth, Wind, and Fire’s September.

They drive around the dirt campsite until the sun begins to dip beneath the trees, singing to the horrible quality music on the radio and laughing so hard they can barely breathe - for the boys, Julie supposes, its not a problem.

And even if it is dangerous to let a bunch of ghost boys drive her around, Julie can’t bring herself to care. These are her boys - they are hers and she is theirs. She loves them, and she’s grateful for them, and while they do drive her mad on occasion, she wouldn’t trade them. She wouldn’t trade this patched-up quilt of a family she’s found and chosen for anything.

-

Though the only person with the ability to eat was Julie, the boys insisted on roasting marshmallows, which subsequently turned into a discussion - immediately followed by a marshmallow battle - between the boys about whether or not they could throw things at one another. Of course, the marshmallows sailed right through them.

Until Julie, that is. She rolled her eyes and laughed and scolded them, but when Luke dared her to chuck a marshmallow at Alex, she did so with the belief it would land as all the rest. Instead, the marshmallow caught him smack in the middle of the forehead.

The game ended quickly after that, once the boys realized Julie had every advantage, and they settled around the fire with their instruments - Alex has his drumsticks, and plenty of logs.

They workshop new songs and play with old ones, and by the time the moon is high in the sky, their throats are raw and sore and their lips are sore from smiling.

“Was your dream always the band?” Julie asks sometime after silence falls, all of them tucked against the logs and staring into the flames. Luke sits on one of Julie’s sides, and Alex and Reggie have the other. Reggie has his head in Alex’s lap, and Alex has made at least 6 minuscule braids out of Reggie’s hair. One of Luke’s legs is pressed up against Julie’s, and when Reggie readjusts or Alex accidentally pulls an elbow out too far, Julie feels that, too. She feels them.

“Music of some kind, yeah,” Luke says, a hint of pain in his voice. Their situation certainly isn’t ideal, even if it’s the best option. The boys are still dead, and they always will be. Julie will outgrow them, and they’ll stay the same, but right now, right here, she has them. They have her.

“I wanted to play Madison Square,” Reggie says, craning his head to flash a smile at Julie. Even that, though, is hinted with sadness. “Anybody who’s worth a damn plays the Orpheum, but hall of famers play the Garden.”

“We’d have made it,” Luke says confidently - he’s nearly always confident, even when it’s a lie. “We’ll make it this time, too.”

“I wish my parents could have seen us play,” Reggie says. “I mean, Alex, even your parents would have to shut up if they saw us on that stage. Or any stage, really.” He frowns, and Alex’s hands fall to his shoulders, both their features twisted. Luke’s expression contorts, too, and Julie can read the trains of thoughts coursing through them.

They are a collection of loose ends that will never be fully tied up. Most of the time, that’s okay—most of the time.

“All of your parents would be proud of you,” Julie says. “Even you, Alex.” She smiles. “I know I am.”

“We’re proud of you, too,” Luke says, taking Julie’s hand and squeezing once. “None of us would be here without you.”

“And I wouldn’t be here without you.”

“Stalemate,” Alex says, one side of his mouth twitching.

“That’s just what family does,” Luke says. He meets Julie’s gaze for a moment before looking to the others. “I don’t care how dorky it sounds. You guys are my family.”

“Oh, good, if not, this would have gotten really awkward-“ Reggie starts. Alex rocks him in his lap, tugging his knees up just enough to shake Reggie, who blindly reaches back to swat at Alex. “Be a better pillow, man.”

“Find a better pillow.”

“Make me.”

Luke squeezes Julie’s hand again, drawing her focus back to him. He smiles, and the flames cast shadows across his face, fire twinkling in his eyes.

She looks to Reggie, grinning and twisting away from Alex with a triumphant grin. She looks to Alex, pushing up to follow - and maybe tackle, or at the very least, smack - Reggie.

She looks at the family she has chosen for herself, and she makes a vow to hold onto them for as long as she can - and then longer.


End file.
